From the Eyes of a Serpents Follower
by Quiet One
Summary: Bella has escaped from Azkaban to continue with her violent ways. Or so she thought. A terrible accident leaves her alone and confused, yet finally gives her a long awaited chance for redemption. Rating upped for violence and 'dark themes.'
1. Haunted

_**1- 16- 04- A/N: Alright. This was originally just going to be a short story. Just this chapter. One of my friends gave me a good idea for a plot though (thanks Hollie) and I decided, what the hell, I'll go ahead and write it. So, you all have two choices, you can go ahead and read just the first chapter, which is entitled 'Haunted' or you can carry on to the second chapter which picks back up after OotP, and read the rest of the story, now entitled 'From the Eyes of a Serpents Follower.' (yes I know that was the name of my old fic, but lets face it, that one sucked. Plus, I liked the name and it fit Bella so I decided to re-use it. A bit of author recycling. See, I'm helping the environment.) Up to you. And just as some warning in advance, I'm not sure how often I'll update this. Thanks for your cooperation. **_

_6-26-03- A/N: I'm not quite sure what made me write this. For one, it has no real plot, and for two, I don't like that character its based around, but it was one of those the words just flowed to me and I needed to write them down before I cracked. Either way, its just a little one shot thing but please review. I like to have feedback of any kind on my pieces. Tootles! _

_Disclaimer: Don't own anything._

_'Haunted'_

The woman leaned against the locked door to her cell, pale hands each grasping one of the cold, metal columns baring her path. But not for long, that was all about to change. From under half closed eyes, she gazed out at those around her. The figure in the cell across from her was curled up on the ground sobbing and moaning. She had watched him come in nigh a week ago standing tall and proud, but it was obvious that he was simple to crack. He would be in the ground soon, along with so many of the others that she had shared these halls with since her arrival.

Peering down the dark, dank corridor she saw that it was almost time. The bars gave a clatter as she stepped away and picked up the cloak she'd worn upon arriving here, a floor length black traveling cloak, and carefully pulled it on, fastening the tiny buttons up the front. Slowly, she lifted the hood over her dark hair, and leaned up against the bars again.

She could see them at work now, two at the end of the hall. Not all of them were on their side yet, so they still had to be careful, but only a few were all they needed. She watched intently as they glided closer and closer to her, unlocking specific cells as they went. The people they passed, leaving them in their cells cried out in protest as the watched their black cloaked inmates flee silently down the halls.

One of the dementors came closer. She could feel the darkness deepen as it approached, the shadows growing longer and the feeling of depression that overcame her whenever one was near intensifying. It glided to a halt at her door, and she watched with bated breath as a single scabbed hand slid from under the folds of its cloak and with a deep rattling breath that made her feel faint, clicked the lock open. As the creature glided on, she blinked several times and allowed the feelings of dread to fade, before pushing the heavy barred door open for the first time in years.

Allowing the door to open just enough for her sickly body to slip through, she paused and slid her shoes from her feet so as to remain silent, and crept down the hall, hoping against hope that the creatures had waited until the few traitorous dementors that still remained had been distracted.

The woman quickly fled down the long hall of cells and whipped around the corner, laying her body flat against the wall. She could see the distant outline of another cloaked person far ahead of her, and decided to follow him, not being entirely sure of her direction. After what seemed like hours but was probably only a few minutes of making her way through a maze of corridors, a wooden doorway could be seen embedded into a seemingly dead end. Her one way of escape.

Anxious to see the sky again, after so many years of imprisonment, she cast a cautious glance behind her, before lifting up the trail of her skirts and cloak and running the remainder of the hall, throwing herself against the door when she reached it.

It flew open in an instant, the wood giving a great shudder, and she caught her first glimpse of the beautiful night sky in years. Dropping the hem of her skirt, she rushed the short distance to the edge of the island and perched herself precariously atop some rocks while looking about. Rain and wind whipped through the air, throwing back the hood of her cloak and tossing her hair in it, the loud crash of the waves against the rocks was music to her ears.

"Lestrange! Hurry up, we can't wait here all day for you to gaze off into space!" one of the men called from aways down the beach. It was a very small island that the prison was on, and there was only one leg of the trip left before they could apparate safely.

"I'm coming!" She called over her shoulder, her voice cracking and horse from being unused for so long.

The woman looked over to where the man was standing, he too, like all the others was dressed in a long, black cape that masked him well against the night sky. He stood huddled together with a group of five or six wizards on the beach, while she could make out two more black shapes moving towards them from the door.

Quickly, she jumped down off the rocks and ran to the group, her bare feet sinking pleasantly in the damp sand, something she had not felt since she was a small girl. As she grew closer, she noticed a small rickety boat had been dragged up onto the shore behind them. She swore under her breath.

"This is your genius escape plan?" Her voice was still raspy.

"Would you rather swim?" One of the cloaked man hissed. "Now keep it down, we still have aways to go before we're safe." She looked at him closely, her dark, lidded eyes boring into his.

"You shall not tell me what to do under any circumstances, am I understood?" The man met her gaze fiercely for several moments before one of the other wizards grabbed his arm and wildly gestured for them to get in the boat. After a tense moment of the two almost daring the other to look away first, the wizard, followed by the woman, turned and crawled carefully to perch on whatever seating remained. As two of the men nearest the front, pushed off the beach and the tiny craft hit the open seas, she glanced around, trying to mask some of the emotion in her eyes. She was free. She could only imagine the hero's welcome they would receive from her Lord when they returned. Unlike her foolish sister's family, the Malfoy's, she had not pleaded insanity to the ministry. She had remained loyal, and she would be rewarded.

The wind whipped about cruelly, causing the overloaded boat to be tossed in the waves as if it were made of paper, and the distant silhouette of land seemed much farther away then it had a moment ago. But even as the rain painfully struck Bellatrix's skin, and a burning sensation seared through her forearm, one thought was lodged firmly in her mind. She was free. Free to wreck havoc on mankind again.


	2. Death

The heavy folds of her cloak were heavy and smothering in the warm night air, and the narrow holes in her mask were difficult to see out of. Oh, she couldn't wait to be done with this and get out of these clothes.

Several bright pinpoints of light could be seen in the distance, twinkling merrily, and strains of an obnoxious muggle music drifted to her ears, growing louder as she walked past the ticket barrier, and into great clearing, along with a group of about nine or ten others dressed exactly like her. The ticket taker looked after them angrily, screaming for them to come back and pay properly. A subtle look from the man in the lead, and a soft word sent a tiny beam of light from his wand, now well-concealed in his sleeve. The memory charm hit the ticket taker full on, and he paused in mid scream, only to turn abruptly to the next person in line, as though nothing had ever happened.

The festivities of the night were convenient, for with the muggles running around like mad folk in various costumes, the group fit right in. Compared to some, they might have even been considered normal looking. Bellatrix looked around as best she could from under the heavy mask and cloak, and was thoroughly puzzled by their behavior. Screaming children ran around in pointy hats, eating something looking like colored pillow stuffing wrapped around a stick. A great wheel with little benches attached to it rotated around unceasingly, and the muggles made a great show of getting on it, riding it to the top, and pointing around at various other rides that you could see just fine from the ground anyway.

A girl of about 20 dressed in a short dress with netted wings strapped to her back, walked up to their group and clung to the arm of her dear Rodolphus, whispering something in his ear. He shot her a look of distaste, before harshly shoving her off. She hit the ground a few feet away, cursing loudly. Bellatrix sent Rodolphus a look of approval, and he smiled slightly at her.

The man in the lead continued to walk and the others followed obediently until they had reached what appeared to be the center of the crowd. The man stopped, and Bellatrix and the others followed his lead, the unsuspecting muggles milling about absently. Slowly, each of the cloaked figures drew out their wands, and whirled around, back to back in a circle.

Time suddenly seemed to move quickly. Too quickly to fully absorb what was going on, and yet somehow it seemed to move in slow motion at the same time. Brightly colored lights flared from the tips of wands, striking innocent passer byers and making them fall in their tracks. It took a few moments for what was happening to register in the minds of the muggles, though when it did they were fleeing, panic stricken.

The flashes of light refracted in a carefree manner off objects, and a few of them came back to strike deatheaters accidently. The group was swiftly separated from each other, and a few moments later, a subtle popping sound filled the air, accompanied by the sudden appearance of ministry officials and aurors. Bellatrix panicked, the hood of her cloak ripped back from her head and her mask fell to the ground as a fleeing muggle was shoved into her. The number of spells in the air instantly doubled as the aurors began to throw counter spells and people began to fall even faster then before.

Bellatrix glanced around nervously, though none of her accomplices were in sight. She did, however, catch sight of the cloaked official in front of her, right before the beam of blue light hit her squarely in the head. The already warm night air seemed to instantly intensify and the heat seemed to make her head spin. She stumbled forward a few steps, before she tripped on the hem of her cloak, and landing on her hands and knees, coughing and sputtering. Her long dark hair, slowly working its way out of its once neat braid, fell in front of her eyes, obstructing her vision. She felt to weak to move it.

Bright flashing lights and sirens so loud they made her ears ring could be heard, whistling closer quickly. The sounds of breaks skidding and car doors slamming echoed, and before long a loud banging sound entered the mix. People began to fall faster, scarlet blood covering them. The ministry officials began to yell something about 'police' and 'gunfire' and turned their spells on the newcomers, firing freezing spells and stupefying spells at random. Bellatrix's colleagues heard the noises also, and began to shout and appearate away with tiny pops.

She knew what she must do. She must make her way to her feet and get out of there. She was of no use to her lord dead, and even less use under enemy capture. After kneeling there for a few more minutes, franticly trying to collect herself, she staggered to her feet and tried to concentrate enough to apperate, however she found she couldn't do it. The lights were too bright and the sirens too loud, and the spell was beginning to take its final toll.

After another moments hesitation she collapsed, hitting her head hard on a sharp rock that has been lodged in the muddy ground as she landed. Her vision steadily blacked out as time passed. Her last words rang softly in her ears as she lost finally consciousness.

_"My revenge has been sought futilely. I am finished."_

Or so she thought.


	3. Awakening

_A/N: Thank so much for the feedback! Any kind of reviews still welcome. I only read OotP once, so if there are any glaring inaccuracies, let me know. _

A faint low groan emitted from her slightly parted lips, and her eyelashes began to flutter. The light seemed far too bright, and an eruption of whispered voices broke out about the room. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

The first thing she noticed was the bright white spotlight hanging directly over her head. She lifted a weak hand to shield her eyes.

"Where am I?" Her voice was strained. She glanced at her surroundings. A white room. She lay upon a thin cot, also made up in white sheets. The rooms' sterile feel was unnerving. Several silver machines whirred in a corner. A long cord ran from one of the machines to her bedside, and was pushed into the flesh of her inner arm. A young woman, dressed in white, approached slowly.

"Your in a hospital. Your all right, just drink this and rest." The woman held a glass flask full of a deep red liquid to her lips. She took a sip, and coughed as the bitterness hit her taste buds. The young woman quickly grew impatient and tipped the remainder down her throat. She coughed again, and leaned her head back against the pillows, her eyes fluttering shut.

* * *

Her eyes opened again. She felt better this time, but still a little weak. Slowly, she pushed herself into a sitting position. The cord running to her arm stung as she did so. Hesitantly, she lifted a hand. Her skin was pale, and her hand small and slender. A paper bracelet encircled her wrist, which puzzled her. A tray of food sat at the foot of the sterile bed, and after a few minutes of looking around aimlessly she ate. The food was white and lumpy, blending unnervingly well with the white surroundings. Looking around, she noticed everything in the room had the same white or silver coloring. Only her hair, the dark ends laying around her, was different.

Quiet a while passed before a man in a long white coat with a clipboard under his arm hurried into the room.

"What happened?" She looked up at him, her head tilted to the side in question, long, unbound hair falling about her shoulders. A look of sympathy flashed across the mans face.

"We're not sure exactly. You were involved in the terrorist- uh, incident, at the carnival near a week ago."

"Terrorist incident?" She squinted and tried to clear her mind.

"Well, you see, no ones exactly sure how it happened." The man pulled up a stool by her bedside, and spoke in a brisk, almost hurried manner. He had better places to be then this. "A group of masked people appeared and some sort of bombing went on. We think they had guns, though no one saw any. Well, the thing turned into a panic. As of now, twenty five people are dead, another twenty unconscious or in critical condition." She looked confused. Silence hung in the room for several minutes. After a pause she shook her head, and passed a hand in front of her eyes.

"What happened to me?" The man let out a heavy sigh.

"Again, we're not quite sure. We believe you experienced some sort of concussion, but that shouldn't have kept you unconscious this long. There was some sort of outside variable, we just haven't been able to find it yet." She looked around again. The man frowned. "Now, I'm going to have to ask you a few questions, just to make sure you're alright." The man looked as if he seriously doubted she was alright.

"Ma'am, whats todays date?" She frowned.

"How should I know, I've been unconscious." A tone of cynical sarcasm shone through unknowingly. The man smiled weakly.

"True, true. Uhh, can you remember anything of the incident?" She concentrated, her expression lost in thought. She remained like this for some time and the doctor waited, looking impatiently at his watch every few minutes. Finally, she answered.

"No. I don't."

"Can you tell me what your name is?" Silent tears began to run down her face as she tried to focus her mind and remember.

"No."

"Can you tell me of anything that happened before you were brought here? Even events from the day before, or the week before? Even from childhood?" The tears flowed harder.

"No." The man frowned.

"Its just as we expected from your examinations. I can't be certain without testing, but it seems you've been affected with retrograde amnesia, or in other words, a loss of your memory from the accident and everything prior." He made a note on his clipboard. "It will come back to you, in a few months, but I'm afraid I can't just release you into the world. Without your help, I have no way of identifying you further then we already have, and I know of no living relatives without at least a last name. We are running a search by first names, but have yet to find anything worth while."

"I hate to ask this, but what _is_ my name?" She was humiliated to ask it. But she had no other way of finding out. She had tried to remember, and it had been right there, dancing tauntingly just out of her reach. It hadn't come.

"Judging from an engraving found on a piece of jewelry, we believe its Bella." She contemplated that for a while. She hadn't heard the name before, but something about it just seemed right.

"What are you going to do with me?"

"There's an elderly couple that volunteers here on Sundays. They're children are now full grown, and they live by themselves nearby. They've offered to take you into their home until we know anything further about you. Its pointless just to keep you here, and we've learned that a patient of your type benefits from participating in daily life." Her head began to spin from an overload of information. She was hearing the mans words, but they were too hard to believe. It was all too much! She leaned her head back against the pillows and closed her eyes. The man stood and went to the door.

"I shall leave you to rest. I understand this must be hard on you." She wanted to throw something at him. He had no idea.

* * *

_The doll landed with a splash in the fish pond. _

_"Bella! What on earth was _that_ for!" The cry was shrill, and coming from the mouth of a small five year old girl. Her face was contorted in a pout, and her feet bare. A pretty shift, like a tiny version of a Victorian tea dress, was on her, the stiff white cloth and intricate lace matching her perfectly fair skin and white blond hair._

_"Because you're being a pain, and thats what you get when you're being a pain." This girl was slightly older, seven or eight maybe, and wore a smug look on her face, arms triumphantly crossed. She watched the younger girl with critical dark eyes, as she lifted her skirts and delicately began to wade into the molded water, just far enough to reach the bedraggled dolly, pouting and huffing along the way. The older girls hair was braided and her clothes were also old fashioned, though dark green in color. Her fair skin seemed especially pale in contrast. A smirk was etched upon her face. _

_"Narcissa!" The highly exasperated call of the nursemaid echoed from the back door of the families summer manor. No one particularly wanted to be there, but it was a tradition the girls' mother upheld every year regardless. Then, the rest of the extended family would travel out to meet them, and the girl would be forced to endure an entire summer of her insufferable cousin. _

_The nursemaid hurried from the house and leaned over the pond, using long arms to scoop the girl from the water, doll now in hand. _

_"Look at you!" She exclaimed, holding her far enough away to prevent getting her own dress wet. Narcissa's feet and hem were coated in muck, and her doll was in dreadful condition, the blond hair tinted a horrific shade of green. The girl bit her bottom lip sharply to keep from laughing. By the time the nursemaid had carried the kicking Narcissa inside at arms length, the metallic taste of blood was apparent in her mouth. She turned away, smirk still in place, and carefully she lifted a finger to her lip. She pulled it away, momentarily memorized by the colorful liquid remaining there. She wiped her hand off on her skirt and looked back down at it. The blood was gone, only a streak of faint pink where it had once been remaining. _

_"That was a simply horrid thing to do you know." The matter-of-fact voice echoed from the stone bench sitting in the sun just outside the patio. The girl turned to face the speaker, smirk gone. In place of it, her dark eyes hardened and her lips turned to a sneer. _

_"And why ever is that, Andromeda?" An older girl sat upon the bench, her nose buried in a leather covered volume of lore. She didn't look up from it as she spoke. _

_"It just wasn't very nice. That green will never come out of the hair you know. And that one was Narcissa's favorite." The girl glared steadily at her, before whirling around and storming into the house. Andromeda lifted her gaze and watched her go, a sad look remaining in her eyes. She shook her head subtly, and turned back to her reading._

_

* * *

_

Bella awoke in a sweat, the covers twisted in a knot and her hands gripping the sheets tightly. It had seemed so real. Was it a memory? The doctor had said things would gradually begin to come back to her, but this wasn't how she imagined things would come back to her. Everything in it had contained an echo of familiarity, but had seemed entirely unreal at the same time. Had it just been an entirely meaningless dream? By why would the dream be so detailed. The situation was uncommon too. Why would she be dreaming of some random family? And ones with such an old fashioned life style and old fashioned names too.

Then she remembered what the little one had called the girl.

Bella.

The young girl was her.


	4. A New Home

Several days had passed since Bella had been told of the news. The entire time she'd had been drifting in and out of consciousness gradually. She still recalled nothing. The Bates family, a sweet elderly couple, had come by that morning and introduced themselves. She would be going home with them in another two days. The doctors had shown her what they had found of her possessions. That was all they had to identify her with.

First had been her clothes. Long thick black robes and a matching cloak were the first articles. When she had asked why she had been wearing a cloak, the doctor had told her that the carnival had been themed as a masquerade. That everyone had been dressed in costume. The other things they showed her included a black pair of pants, and a plain long sleeved shirt that she had been wearing under the robes. Heeled boots served as footwear.

In addition there had been a single silver band, which from its discovered position on her left hand was assumed to be a wedding ring, worn with a silver and emerald ring, which was in turn, assumed to be an engagement ring. The last piece was a necklace. A round and flat coin of silver was strung on a black cord. The front of the piece was an engraving of a serpent. Tiny green jewels were set in place for the eyes. While the engraving looked ordinary enough, something about it captivated her. She had stared at it for what seemed like hours, but was probably only moments when they first showed it to her. Then, on the back were words, engraved carefully and in a small beautiful script. If was from here that the doctors identified her.

_Bella,_

_Amor Omnia Vincet_

_yours,_

_Rodolphus. _

The words were simple enough, but something about them haunted her. That night, as she drifted off to sleep, they were all she could think about. Once she was asleep though, they left her in a flash.

* * *

_They stood assembled in the front hallway, still and silent. Bella's arms were crossed, her face still set in a scowl. Andromeda stood next to her, hands clasped behind her back and eyes downcast, and Narcissa stood on her other side, freshly clean and dressed. The green haired doll clutched in her arms was the only sign of the mornings activities. The nursemaid stood in the corner, behind Narcissa, doing her best to blend in with the wall._

_A sound echoed at the far end of the entry hall and the double doors leading to the parlor flew open. In swept her mother and father, looking as perfect as they always did. The picture of grace, class, and elegance. Her fathers dark hair was impeccably combed, perfectly matching his dark robes. Her mother was stunning, blond curls held up with a jeweled pin, her complexion pale and perfect as always. The strode down the length of the hall quickly, coming to a halt just in front of the girls. The clock could be heard somewhere in the distance, striking the hour. A crash could be hear outside of the entrance. The footmen swung the front doors open._

_Her cousin's family stood on the front step, their discarded portkey laying on the marble floor. Her parents welcomed the adults with open arms and they swept off, disappearing into the parlor while the children were left to fend for themselves. The little boy standing on the stoop came inside and the footmen closed the doors. He stood still, eying her with fury. Andromeda returned to the porch with her book, and little Narcissa burst into tears and was carried off by the nursemaid._

_She was left alone with him... He was just her age, and they were cousins, which would lead one to believe that they were playmates. Far from the truth actually. They hated each other. One look at his obnoxious face wanted to send Bella running to her room to stay away from him. He got along with Andromeda well enough, but he was considerably younger then she, and she was preoccupied with her books. This however, left him with only Bella. The only good thing to come from their relationship was that he seemed to hate her with just the same passion as she hated him. At least they were on equal ground._

_Frowning, she turned on her heel and stormed off. To where she didn't know. As long as she didn't have to face him again... At least until dinner anyway. She was always next to him._

_

* * *

_

The English countryside was flying by at a dizzying rate. This 'car' they were riding in was highly uncomfortable. Bella's head lay against the glass as she tried very hard to keep down her breakfast. The car still mystified Bella, which further mystified the doctors. She recognized most common objects, and her basic skills, but there were strange pieces missing. Usually with regards to technology. The car was one of those many things. It had made her uneasy at first, but now she just felt sick.

"We're almost there," Mrs. Bates called from the front seat. Bella nodded gratefully, afraid to open her mouth.

Ten minutes later the car pulled to a stop in front of a small, well kept home. Tidy lines of rosebushes led up the paved walkway, and the driveway ended in front of a massive looking door of sorts. It didn't open however, as Mr. Bates parked the car in the driveway and hopped out. Mrs. Bates opened the front door, while he fetched her bags out of the trunk.

Before heading home, they'd stopped and bought her some clothes to have besides the ones she'd been found with. Bella slowly climbed out of the car, her stomach finally settling, and followed the couple up to the front door. She was still in the process of adjusting to being outside of the hospital for the first time in weeks. Mr. Bates hung the keys on a small wooden plaque by the door and walked into the living room with the paper he'd picked up on the way.

"Hello Duke," Mrs. Bates said to the large black dog that had come scampering into the room. She picked up one of Bella's bags, who took it as a signal to pick up the other, before following her up a crickety set of stairs to the second floor.

"The bathroom's the first door on the left," she said. "And our room is right across the hall. Stephan's room is second on the right."

"Your son?"

"Yes. But don't worry, he doesn't live here. We keep it open for him when he's visiting." She continued down the hall. "Your room will be the second on the left." She knocked the door open and set the suitcase on the bed. She opened the curtains and propped open the front window.

"Please make yourself at home Bella." Bella looked around.

"Thank you for your kindness Mrs. Bates."

"Oh please dear, call me Jane. And call that old man down there William."

Bella smiled. "Thank you Jane." She left, closing the door behind her and Bella was left to her own devices.

The room was nice enough. The hard wood floor was covered with a braided rug and the white walls were covered with paintings of flowers and famous sayings neatly framed. The bed was white, and made up with a light green comforter, and the white dresser was bare. An armchair sat by the window, and the door to the walk in closet stood open. The white lace curtains over the windows fluttered in the same breeze that tossed her hair.

With a sigh she turned and lifted the two suitcases onto the bed, clicking them open. The robes she was found in she hung carefully in the closet and the jewelry she wore. Undergarments were shoved in the dresser, and an assortment of skirts and shirts and pants for all occasions were hung in the closet, a few pairs of shoes lined up on the floor.

Finished, she carefully pulled off the sweater she was wearing and settled down in the arm chair, surveying the landscape. Idly, she turned over her arm, running her fingers over the skin. The thin outline of a skull resided there, faint against her pale skin. This identifying mark had also puzzled the doctors. It wasn't quite a tattoo, but she had no idea what else it could be.

Jane's voice echoed from downstairs calling Bella to an early supper, and she stood slowly , closing the door to her room softly behind her.

_POTC Freak: Wow, I can't believe I missed that. What on earth was I thinking? Thanks for catching it. I do believe its right in the third chapter though. When she's referring to her cousin there, she's not talking about Narcissa. _

_Thanks for the feedback everyone! Please keep it coming!_


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